


Moonpeach Blossoms

by MadameFluffnStuff



Series: Aang is a ~little shit~ [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang is a ~little shit~, Aang subsists solely on his sweetie his sass and his sweetie's smooches, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Homecoming, Kataang reunion, Katara Needs a Hug, Katara is ~too tired for this~, Precious Aang (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameFluffnStuff/pseuds/MadameFluffnStuff
Summary: Aang is late. Katara wants her damn hug.
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar)
Series: Aang is a ~little shit~ [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917649
Comments: 10
Kudos: 77





	Moonpeach Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> Aang is a wholesome, sassy little shit, and he gives me some very strong Thomas O’Malley Cat vibes.

The ground is pink and blanketed by a fluffy sea of moonpeach blossoms, but Katara’s pacing carves through it like a knife. 

Aang was supposed to be gone for only a few days.

It had been nearly two  _ weeks _ .

Katara,  _ again _ , spins on her heel to stride across her little trough of exposed grass. The green and pink contrast would have been pleasant if she wasn’t in such a sour mood. 

Her skin crawls like a caged tigerdillo’s. She hugs herself a bit tighter, and her eyes keep to the cloudy sky. 

She would have been after him in a heartbeat if he hadn’t taken Appa.

Katara pulls out Aang’s letter and reads it again even though the words were seared in her mind the second she received it. 

He said he would be home today. 

He  _ promised _ . 

Aang  _ never _ broke a promise. 

“Stupid Avatar, stupid Zuko, stupid  _ dragon _ —” 

Katara nearly growls. She’s grateful that instinct has her folding up Aang’s letter when the heat in her face wants to tear it to shreds. She straightens out a crease before tucking it into the inner pocket of her dress. 

“‘It’s just a little search and rescue, sweetie.’ ‘I’ll be home in a few days, sweetie.’ ‘You can’t come because we don’t know what the Masters will think of a waterbender,  _ sweetie _ .’”

Katara throws her hands up. She storms to the little bench, the one Aang had terraformed for them, under their blooming moonpeach trees. 

She grumbles at the wind when it blows by like a glancing kiss. She often talked to it when Aang wasn’t around. He was its last bender, and he and his frustratingly playful element had become synonymous in her mind. 

“Go away. I’m mad at you.” 

The wind doesn’t go. If anything, it blows harder. Moonpeach blossoms swirl around her like a small hurricane before the wind frolics away.

Katara plops her chin in her hand and bounces her leg. She blows a pink petal and stray hair from her face. 

...She’s grumbling a curse that would have impressed even Toph when the wind returns with Aang’s laugh. 

Katara freezes, stunned by the relief crawling up every nerve. Warmth blossoms in her somersaulting belly, filling some empty part of her and spilling over like water from an upturned leaf. 

More moonpeach blossoms rain down on her. 

Katara looks up.

Aang’s smirk reaches his eyes when she finally finds him, not even an arm’s-length above her. He was laying on his branch like a leopard on a warm day, lounging with his face on his fist like he  _ hadn’t _ been gone for longer than he  _ ever _ should be (or ever would be again— _ that _ Katara would make sure). He lazily shook the branch beside him to sprinkle her with more moonpeach blossoms. He tried singing, but he was smiling so wide that all he could do was hum and try to keep from laughing too hard, especially when Katara puffed her cheeks and crossed her arms. 

Katara couldn’t hide her blush, and it makes him laugh all the more. 

Aang gives her a calculating look and a nod, approving of the glaze of moonpeach blossoms on his fiancé. His little laugh and half-lidded eyes are satisfied to the brim. 

Then, in a few quick moves like he was part lemur, Aang hangs upside down from his perch to kiss her forehead and grumpy cheeks. 

“Hi, sweetie~” 

His gentle voice is smug and warm—familiar and  _ home _ —and it turns Katara’s insides to ooze. He kisses her nose and curls her hair behind her ears. Katara puffs her cheeks and purses her lips and tries to look angry even though it only makes his smile wider. 

He’s crouching on the arm of the bench before she realizes it. The tree branch faintly shudders, and now they’re both covered in moonpeach blossoms. 

He talks some more. Or maybe he was humming? Katara can’t quite tell. She was reading the thousands of ‘ _ I love you _ ’s and ‘ _ I missed you _ ’s that jumped around in his eyes like polarbeardog pups eager to see her. They wrap around her and tug into a cozy waltz the part of her heart that he had made his own. 

...Katara glances away twice but is drawn back to him by an unseen force that she only half-hates. She kisses his cheek, and Aang—the  _ brat _ —swoons and falls back on the ground in a display that would have the Ember Island Players taking notes. Moonpeach blossoms gush up and gently fall like splashed water. 

Aang peeks open one eye, his hand clutched over his apparently wounded heart, and grins at her. 

Katara is not amused. 

He smiles even wider. 

He sits next to her on the bench as he chases away the last of his laughs. His hand finds hers, and the tension flees Katara’s shoulders like he had just cut the strings that held her together. He kisses her hand like it was the most valuable thing in the world. 

Katara scowls. He was making it increasingly difficult for her to be mad at him.

Aang wraps an arm around her and scoots closer to her just as he tugs her closer to him. Katara was already curling her arms around his torso—almost laying on him in the process—and letting her head find its home under his chin. 

He doesn’t smell like dried blood or the sorry excuses for soap he normally used to wash out bloodstains (in the hopes that she won’t notice and worry). He’s not favoring any limb, and there wasn’t any hiccup in the airbending-grace of his movements, but the pads of her fingers find a welt on his two bottom ribs that is large and angry enough to be felt even through his robes. 

Katara scowls and holds him tighter. Aang kisses her head and pulls her closer. 

Aang leans against the tree’s trunk. He doesn’t stop humming. The sound is a dull rumble against Katara’s ear that digs under her skin and compels her muscles into complacency like his voice was a siren’s song. She gladly drowns herself in him. 

The wind kisses her face again; Katara sighs and welcomes it. 

“I missed you.” 

Katara didn’t know how Aang heard her, but he huffed a small laugh that bounced warmly against her and had her smiling despite herself.

He kissed her temple and spoke into her hair. “If you think missing me is hard, you should try missing you.” 

As he speaks, Aang’s hand slips under hers. He pulls it away from examining the injury on his side, and he cradles it close. 

Katara threads their fingers on instinct even though his tactic draws a frustrated sound out of her. 

“...You and I are going to have a talk about that.” 

“A talk?” Aang gasped excitedly. “Is the Mighty Katara asking little ol’  _ me _ on a  _ date _ ?” 

“Oh,  _ you _ —You know  _ exactly _ what I—”

Aang was already littering her face with smirking apology kisses, taking her down from the inside out. A giggle escaped her, and Katara didn’t know if she wanted to smack or kiss him when he laughed and pulled her flush against him. She rolled her eyes even as he plopped his chin on her head. 

She grumbled. “...You just—You just hush up and stay still so I can enjoy this. I’ll nag you later.”

“I look forward to it.” He cuddled impossibly closer, and he settled them like he didn’t intend for them to move for a long while. 

“I love you.”

He said it like he was sharing a part of his soul with her, and Katara melted to slush in his arms. 

“I love you, too.”

Aang hummed some more and petted her hair. The wind stirred the moonpeach blossoms, and the tender petals touched any part of them that they couldn’t hold.

Katara had always appreciated the feeling of returning home. 

She loves the feeling of home returning to her even more.

**Author's Note:**

> (speedwrite challenge-under an hour. Sorry if was choppy)


End file.
